


Gold High Heel Boots

by the_girl_without_a_face



Series: Fearlessly and Forever [3]
Category: CrissColfer - Fandom, Glee RPF
Genre: Broadway References, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everything is CrissColfer, Fluff, HATAI, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massages, No Angst, Nothing Hurts, crisscolfer, rehearsal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_girl_without_a_face/pseuds/the_girl_without_a_face
Summary: Darren comes home really sore after a day of tough rehearsal forHedwig and the Angry Inch. Chris takes care of him.





	Gold High Heel Boots

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Darren Criss or Chris Colfer neither the right to their names or images. This is purely fictional for my personal hapiness.

Chris looks up when he hears the soft noise of a set of keys being inserted into the doorknob. He has a privileged view of the door from the couch, where he’s sitting comfortably with his laptop on his legs. Chris hasn’t stared on dinner yet, knowing that his boyfriend still had an hour of rehearsal and a good 30-minutes-drive to get home.

Cooper lifts his head from the ground where it was resting on his front paws and goes to the door, tail swishing excitedly.

Chris can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he sees his boyfriend. After a long day of rehearsal, Darren looks tired as he pushes the door open and steps inside, some relief already flooding into his bones just from being home. Chris rises from his spot after setting the laptop aside and walks toward Darren, who smiles back at him. His clothes are snug on his body, allowing his movements to flow better while learning new dance routines, and they leave little space for imagination. Which Chris is very happy about. And wants very much to rip them off. 

Cooper barks twice to get Darren’s attention, even though he already rubbed his hairy body on Darren’s legs.

“Okay, buddy,” Darren chuckles as he lowers a bit to scratch Cooper behind his ears, who wails his tail faster.

Chris frowns and halts his walk at the sight. It’s completely normal for someone to get tired and sore from a whole day rehearsing a very demanding lead part in a Broadway play, but Darren usually gets home still muttering the song under his breath or swaying his hips or shoulders or tapping his feet as he goes through the dance on his head. Tonight though Darren looks very tired and he isn’t bouncing excitedly.

More than that, now that Chris really pays attention to his movements. Darren stiffly bent down to greet Cooper and his walk is funny, as if something hurts every time his feet touch the ground.

“You okay?” Chris asks, setting his hands on Darren’s shoulders.

The older man sighs. “Great,”” he says, “Just tired. How was your day?”

“Got some writing done and an interview by a coffee shop just outside the park. All in all, productive. How was rehearsal?”

Chris knew something was up, but he didn’t want to sound desperate. Not yet, at least.

“The usual,” Darren shrugs.

He pecks Chris’ cheek gently before moving to sit on the couch nearby, not the one with Chris’ stuff on. He manages to hold his grimace in as he walks and lowers his body to the couch, but not when he leans his torso forward to get his shoes off. Or the grimace when his feet were free and aching.

Chris is beyond concerned now. “Okay, what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

Chris comes to sit next to him, carefully as to not jostle the couch and Darren with it.

“What happened to you to make you grimace at every movement you make?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Chris mocks, lifting one of his eyebrows.

“Absolutely no-” is how far Darren got before he cringes from trying to shrug his shoulders and a biting pain curses his back.

Chris looks worriedly at him, turning his body entirely to face his boyfriend.

“Dare?”

“Something happened today.”

Darren still has his eyes closed from the pain while Chris waits for him to continue.

“First those boots,” he said, gesturing vaguely to his bag. Hedwig’s golden boots were something he used both on rehearsals and at home since he got the part. He was determined to learn how to walk, jump and dance flawlessly with the heels. And, as all other things Darren attempts, he mastered the boots in no time.

“What happened to the boots?”

“They are officially killing my feet,” Darren sighs, opening his eyes and slowly coming to a more straighten up position. “It hurts in places I didn’t even know existed!”

Chris imagined that day would come sooner or later. The boots were not very comfortable after all.

“What else?”

“Hum?” Darren turns his neck to look at the taller man.

Chris patiently explains. “Something else happened. Something you’re embarrassed to tell me, which is strange because I know some humiliating things you’ve done. So spill.”

When Chris looks at anyone - especially Darren, especially after a long day at unstopping rehearsals - with those piercing eyes, he got an answer.

Darren smiles sheepishly. “You know how there’s a car on stage?”

Chris had been impressed that it was an actual car when he saw it one day, but this was Broadway so he really shouldn’t have been as awed as he was.

“I was trying this new routine and decided to increment it a bit,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “And then I might have stuck my heel – still not sure where – on the car and I tried to keep standing by placing my other foot on a smooth part of the hood. I might have fallen and landed on the floor.”

“Well the stage could be harder, so I think you’re lucky.”

“I said floor, not stage.”

Chris’s eyes go huge. “What?”

“The stage doesn’t go on for forever, right? I fell from the hood of the car to the floor. I think I actually pushed forward when I tried to keep straighten up.”

“You just can’t keep straight, can you?”

Darren looks at his boyfriend with a mock-hurt expression and places his hand on his chest. “I tell you how I almost died today and you make a joke about me? I’m wounded, Christopher.”

Chris lets out a laugh that is soon followed by Darren. “I think you’ll live, from both accidents.”

“I hope so,” Darren says. “I would hate for you to be a widow before we’re even married.”

It isn’t the first time they talk about it, but it doesn’t keep a smile from either of their faces.

“First you gotta ask me, dear,” Chris remembers him.

Darren smirks. “It’s on the plans.”

“I think we need a plan for now. My boyfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée-which-is-going-to-happen-the-day-he-asks,” Darren beams at Chris’ words,” is in pain and I need to make it better.”

“And how do you plan to do it?” Darren lifts his eyebrows.

“Wait right here. Just lie down and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Chris then rises from the couch and disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a heating pad and sunflower oil.

“I think this would work better on the bed but I know for a fact you love this couch.”

“Stop trying to take me to bed, Christopher, I’m hurting here. And it’s a perfectly great couch and I know you love it too.”

It is true. It took them some time to find a couch that pleased them both – more in comfort scales and length than in style really – but this one was perfect. And it was even in a color that matched the kitchen’s walls.

“It’ll do,” Chris concedes. “I’m going to place this on your back. Can you sit up?”

Chris helps when he sees look of pure pain on his boyfriends face at his first attempt. When the heating pad is in its place – right where Darren had landed when he fell from the car -, he slowly helps Darren back down.

“Ugh, this is so good,” Darren moans, closing his eyes, letting the heat ease his muscles.

Chris lifts his boyfriend’s feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. With his back propped up by the arm of the couch, he reaches for the oil he placed on the coffee table and pours some in his palm. He rubs his hands together to warm it before touching the feet on his lap.

The shorter man opens his eyes at the contact. “What- oh, Chris,” he goes back to moaning and closing his eyes as Chris’s thumbs push and drag from bottom to top against the heel of his foot.

Chris only chuckles at his boyfriend, now even more driven to help him relax. Darren is always an over-excited puppy and he’d help him any way he could. He wants his man back, dammit.

He works one foot throughoutly, rubbing, squeezing and pressing before the heating pad gets colder and therefore not doing its job. After re-heating and re-placing it on Darren’s back – who manages to sit up almost on his own – he massages his boyfriend’s other foot.

Every few minutes, Darren gasps, moans and even whimpers as the pain slowly leaves his body. Chris’ own smile only grows bigger for knowing he is the one providing such reaction.

Neither of them knows how long passed but they don’t care. They are looking at each other and smiling softly.

“I love you,” Darren murmurs, his heart eyes in placed.

“I love you too,” Chris murmurs back, a new glint in his eyes. He hopes the magic of confessing their love to one another will never end.

 

And it never did.


End file.
